Abandon Ship
Every voyage to Antarctica begins with an alarm,
for a drill on how to abandon ship.
Run aground, struck by ice, or caught on fire,
it’s the same, seven short followed by one long blast.
Find your personal flotation device.
Dress warmly, bring medication,
leave everything else behind.
Walk calmly to your muster station.
Speak up when your name is called.
Await further instructions.
Be prepared to assist in launching life rafts.
The little boats are hollow orange lozenges,
twice a man’s height in length. Each holds twenty people,
or in a pinch, more, like sardines.
The seas may be rough
for who knows how long.
Never mind Pete, for everyone’s sake,
try not to get sick.
If things get dire and the pod is compromised,
you’ll have to jump in water, so cold
death may occur in as little as fifteen minutes.
Then, you will need
to wear an oversized neoprene hazmat suit.
Only your face will be exposed.
You’ll have a whistle and a little blinking light.
You’ll have one thumb and two large fingers on each hand.
You’ll become a bright orange lobster Telletubbie.
This is your fat fighting chance.
Mercifully, the voice on the intercom dispels your dismay.
It’s time to set sail. You may want to visit the bar.
John Paul Caponigro is an internationally collected visual artist and published author. His poetry has been published in over 50 literary journals on 5 continents, including the Ekphrastic Review, Little Blue Marble, and Blithe Spirit. He leads unique adventures in the wildest places on earth to help participants make deeper connections with nature and themselves creatively. View his website and TEDx and Google talks here.
